Introducing Trixie
by Cyanna Grayce
Summary: When a convicted mutant is taken in by the X-Men, she's tasked with writing in a journal by Professor Xavier. What will her observations show about her life with the X-Men?


**DISCLAIMER: The characters of the X-Men belong to Marvel. Except for Trixie, of course. They do not belong to me. I am simply borrowing them for the sake of writing my own story based upon the pain, sufferings, and aggravations that they have suffered over the years. I make no monetary gains off of this; only the pleasure of releasing my creative genius through the written word. Thanks for not suing me, Mr. Lee!**

_April 26, 2008_

_Dear Diary,_

_This makes me feel like a 12 year old. I just want to put that on the record since that I thought I'd passed the stage in my life where writing in diaries went right along with playing dress up with my Barbie dolls. But no...I've been discovered. And you, the handsome, leather bound volume that you are, was given to me by Professor Charles Xavier as a way to 'clear my head'. I don't __need_ to clear my head. I _need_ to figure out why I'm here...at a school for the 'gifted'.

Gifted. That's such a nice way to put it. I think I'd feel much better if this were the School for the Freakish Youngsters or even the School for the Rejected. Hell, even School for the Mutie Wonders would be better than gifted. But hey, what can I say? This place was founded in the '60's, when being polite was a way of life. And that's another thing...students? You have got to be kiddin' me. Most of the people here aren't kids...they're pushing their 30s. I just might be the youngest person here and I'm turning 25 next month!

The problem is, I'm ordinary. Yes, I can make things disappear. But I've never kissed a boy and killed him. Never summoned lightening at my whim. Far as I know, I've never had wings sprout out of my back or been trained to be a top secret ninja assassin who was born with psychic abilities and purple hair. I did good to pass my Spanish 101 class at Syracuse. The third time I took it. 

No, I just...make things disappear. I touch something and it fades a little before it's just gone. I used to find the stuff all over my room when I was younger. Then, when I started stealing, I'd just send it to the back of my closet in my dorm room. It makes me smile to think of how many DVDs and CDs joined the collections of the academically challenged in my hay day. I was the cheapest deal in town. And I liked it that way.

But no. I had to get caught. Took the prosecutor a long time to convince the courts that I was a thief. Took him a long time to convince the judge that I was a danger to society. The judge had contacts I guess. Cause that contact led Xavier to me. And here I am, writing in his diary about me. 

For the record, I am completely against this, Charles. I don't like it. And I might even skip a few days out of spite.

Sincerely,

Trixie Davenport

April 29, 2008

Dear Diary,

Still feel stupid, but better since I took a few days off. Charles busted me when he read my first entry, and I think he pulled a little subliminal mind trick to get me to pull you back out again. I had to meet with him this morning to get my 'schedule' and set up my rehabilitation schedule. He also gave me a homework assignment. Yeh...I'm going back in time. I think that this time next week I'll be back to braiding my hair and pulling those Barbie dolls back out.

So my first assignment is to write an entry about my life. Fabulous. He wants to get to know me better without the mind trick thing. Hell's bells, maybe after this he'll take me to dinner he'll be so impressed. 

Ok. Enough with the sarcasm. I promised I'd do this so I didn't have to go spend the next few months in jail. So here I am. Here are my memoirs:

My name is Trixie Davenport and I was born May 24th in a small town in South Carolina. My mom was a history teacher and my dad just loved to go to the auto plant not far away so that he could feed us. I grew up in a small but quaint neighborhood with a bunch of kids. I wasn't orphaned. I wasn't abandoned. I wasn't abused. Except for the name. My mom had this thing for cute pixie names. I was her first, so I got stuck with Trixie. My kid sister used to tell me that my father was really the Trix cereal bunny. I hated her. Part of me still does actually. How's that for therapeutic, Prof?

I grew up doing what every little girl does. I played with dolls. I cried when the boys picked on me. I hated my mom's broccoli. Hey! That's it...I hated broccoli. That's why I turned out to be a mutant! 

In all fairness, broccoli did have a pivotal role in how I discovered my 'gift'. I didn't want to eat it. I sat at the table, watching my family pour over their meals while my mom discussed the next season's junior cheerleader tryouts with my sister. I started picking up each green stalk and pouting. 

"Trixie! Stop that. You aren't leaving this table if you don't eat that you know!"

My mother's blue eyes met mine with a glare that I knew would shrink away the dead. Sighing, I picked up my fork and started to pick at them again. Stabbing them really. My mind wandered up to my room where the new Nancy Drew mystery awaited me on my bed. As I lifted the fork up to my mouth, presto! The broccoli was gone. I bit down on the fork to find nothing there.

I knew I hadn't swallowed it and as I stared at my fork, I wondered if I could do it again. I picked up a handful of the broccoli, thought about my book, and watched in amazement as the clump disappeared. I grinned, stuffing my hand to my mouth as I pretended to chew. This trick was good...and it was gonna be useful.

When I got up to my room though, I found out that the joke was on me. My Nancy Drew book was covered with the broccoli. Green smears marked the shiny color and it took me days to get all the little leaves off my bedcover. 

I didn't care though. I had a new trick that could be used for my advantage and that's all that mattered.

Hey, Prof...got a little psycho-analytical in there, didn't I? Ever tell you that I would have majored in psychology if it weren't for that damned Spanish class?

Trixie D.

April 30, 2008 

Dear Diary,

I got fussed at. Prof actually found my last diary entry to be amusing, but didn't like the fact that I didn't finish it. I was supposed to write my memoirs, not a dissertation on broccoli, he said. Hah! Jokes on him...he really believes that _I_ could write a dissertation! 

On top of all that, now I have to start working on my training. Ugh...I'll get into that in a minute. Let me finish one thing first, then I'll get into everything else.

I started stealing using my powers when I was 15 and was never too good to get an allowance. I'd pick something up, look at it, and then act like I was putting it back on the shelf. The entire time I was making it disappear. 

When I got into college, I started my own little criminal fencing operation. I'd steal stuff that I knew my fellow students (real ones...college ones) would buy. For the right price. It wasn't enough to make me rich, but I was never broke like the other kids in my classes. Which was good enough for me.

I got busted when I went into Wal-Mart though. Wal-Mart...that big store that lets you bring anything back? Yeh...their little security guard saw me fading out a cd, and busted me. I can't call it back, so I got arrested. "Shoplifting! You've been banished from our store!" Please...there's like a thousand of them in our state. But I digress...

I got busted and arrested. Since I didn't have the merchandise physically on me at the time, I got sent to the judge as a special case. He called Xavier since they knew I was a mutant. And here I am. Writing.

This schedule thing is a whole different matter. I have to work out every morning. Then I have to meet with someone called 'Dr. McCoy' for physical tests and chemistry. Then I have to help out in the kitchen and the cleaning. This school is a mansion. It's huge. I don't think you could clean this place in a month. And I am under strict observation. No tricks. I can't make anything disappear. 

Then three times a week I have to go to rehabilitation therapy, where Prof gets in my head to figure out why I want to steal. Just wait until I tell him that I'm ordinary. Sure I steal, but who doesn't? 

There, Prof! Finished...ya happy?

Trixie

May 1, 2008,

The Prof told me that he was happy. And that he thought that he could help me. The man is a rock. The only thing that has irritated him was not finishing your assignment. He wants me to write about my time here so far and how I feel.

Prof, this place is a carnie show. Gorgeous, yes. But carnie show nonetheless. 

My first day, I met Ororo and Jean Grey-Summers. Both gorgeous. Both kind and generous. Very boring. Then a clean cut guy right out of the 1950's came in with red shades on. Said his name was Scott and asked if I was joining the 'school'. I told him I was here temporary and he laughed at me. Said that they all said that when they came in. Geez...I don't even think I was born when these guys came in. 

Then a couple came in. Again, both gorgeous, but that's when I realized that these must be examples of mutants. I think they all got a beauty gene that I wasn't blessed with. The woman was dressed in jeans and a green shirt. The man in jeans and a white t-shirt. No big deal; except that her hair had a white streak running down the back and the guy had red and black eyes. Red and black? Isn't that a sign of the devil or something? 

Anyway, the woman shook my hand with her own gloved one and said her name was Rogue. He grinned and almost made my lil' ol' heart melt when he kissed my hand. Said 'J'appelle Remy.' Hah! A language that I knew! I grinned back, caught the woman glaring at him and replied back: 'Bonjour, Remy. J'appelle Trixie." He straightened up when he caught the glare, and winked at me.

I liked him. 

They took me around the mansion. I got to meet my fellow mutant kind including one angel, one demon (Kurt to his friends), and the ninja assassin. When I got back to my room that night, I was exhausted by the introductions. It was a long, long day.

Now that I'm learning my way around this place, it's not that bad. Doesn't seem as big on the inside as it does on the out though. I'm actually getting stuff done here and even though I'm having to write in this stupid book, I'm starting to like it here. 

You didn't see that, Prof.

Trixie

May 5, 2008

I'm being defiant again! Hah! Not my fault though. Ya'll have kept me way too busy the past few days to do anything else. Much less this writing crap.

I started my workout training with a man named Logan. He was trained by the torture captains at the Tower of London I think. My muscles have screamed bloody mercy for the past three days, but does he care? No. I thought about making the whole damn gym disappear if I thought I could get away with it. 

I figured out why everyone here is so damned gorgeous though. They work out under Logan. Who is hellbent on killing me. Then all they eat is this healthy crap. Betsy (the ninja) tried to get me to eat sushi. Sushi!! Where I'm from, that's bait. Goes on the end of a hook...fish comes out of the water. You have a beer to celebrate. Then the cycle begins anew. But she ate it! Eww...

Even that Rogue girl...she's from Mississippi and she doesn't eat real Southern food. Says she doesn't remember it. I got to get these people introduced to Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

I'm getting along nicely though. Even the Professor seems to have taken a liking to me. He's not nagging me about this damned journal and said that he can see a vast improvement in me during the short time I've been here. He thinks that I stole because I thought that it made me useful. He said that he may have another use for my gift if I were interested, but that I needed to be prepped for the role first. 

I was curious. I'm still curious. Baldie didn't elaborate. 

By the way, Baldie is an affectionate term, Prof. Don't hate de playa...

Trixie

May 15, 2008

Ok. I'm writing again. But I'm cutting out the intro. I still feel 12 when I have to write that. And if you don't know that this is a journal by now, then I'm sorry. I'm not doing it.

Logan is killing me. I have to meet with him twice a day now. Morning: workout. Evening: combat training. Combat training? What the hell? That's when it was explained to me. This was the hidden secret batcave for the X-Men. That group of mutants who fought for the 'good of mankind'. When I asked the Prof why he thought he could trust me with this information, he just smiled and said that if I told anyone, he'd wipe my mind clean. 

He'd do it too. He's hardcore.

Despite my fierce hatred for "Wolverine" as he's called, I have to admit that his little regiment is working. I've lost almost 20 pounds since I took up with him earlier this month. And I can kick some serious butt as long as it's not moving. Hey, I'm learning. 

What can I say?

I also learned why the mansion is so big. It's that whole batcave thing. They have a Danger Room, a War Room, a hanger for their jets, rooms for their uniforms, and closets for their weapons. 

Tomorrow I start to learn how to use my powers for good, not evil. And I've been tasked to come up with an alias. Betsy is Psylocke. Logan is Wolverine. Ororo is Storm. Scott is Cyclops. Marie is Rogue. Remy is Gambit. Only Jean is Jean. Guess that's what happens when you're married to the team leader. You don't need no stinkin' alias. 

Hmm...what can mine be? Super Amazing Disappearing Act? Trix the Cerael Bunny? (Only for you, Sis) Vanisho? No...I think somebody already has that one. I'm thinking something simple. Something mysterious. Something Sexy. 

Mage. 

Not Marge. 

Mage.

Hell, easy way to sign my Christmas cards at least. I tell the team tomorrow during my first official debriefing with them. 

Wonder when I'll learn the secret handshake?

Trixie aka Mage

May 16, 2008

It's official. Mage is born! And now, Mage wants to go to bed. My day in a nutshell: Logan kicked my ass (twice), I went to my first meeting where I learned that the world is in mortal danger from another nutjob mutant who decided to go berserk in the middle of Omaha, Nebreska. They went to stop him, I went to the library to study up on the villains that these guys fight against.

Oh my god..these X-Men are popular with the wrong crowd. Their enemies number more than the characters in the Bible. Mr. Sinister? Geez...he sounds original. Magneto? Whose next? The Cookie Monster?

I had a few hours until they got back, so I did my 'therapy' with the professor, then made them a pie. I thought it was sweet. And besides, there was nothing sweet in this place. I was putting the finishing touches on it when they got home. 

Logan smelled it right away and came into the kitchen where he made me throw it away. Said it had too many sugars and that it would kill the progress I'd made so far. I tried to distract him while I held onto the pie, but as soon as it started to fade, he snarled at me. 

So I threw it away. 

Bastard. 

Trixie

June 13, 2008

Good God, I haven't written in this thing in awhile. Glad the Prof stopped asking me about it that first week or so. I'd be in serious trouble. He'd probably fry my motherboard or something.

I'm officially an X-Man now. I still train with Logan, but now it's in the Danger Room. Last week, I made one of their droid robots disappear. I laughed until I cried when Storm found out that I'd transported it into her flower garden. She 'was not amused'. 

The Prof talked with my judge, who decided to release me. I think he was pulling his mind tricks again. I don't care though. I'm free! No jail time for me now, suckas! 

I'm in a really good mood these days. I get along (reasonably) well with my fellow teammates, keep myself busy, and haven't had the desire to steal since I first got here. I do use my powers though. But they are much more concentrated, so I can make larger things disappear. I'm working on making humans and mutants disappear now. That's gonna take more than a few months to learn though.

I am sitting here in the Blackbird jotting this down. I wanted to record my first mission with the X-Men. A dude named Apocalypse had sent his horsemen out to destroy the world. We fought them. We won. He cursed us with eternal damnation. It was all good though. I made one of them cry when I kicked him off his horse. Remind me to make Logan a pie for teaching me that move in the Danger Room.

Maybe he won't throw it away this time...

Trixie


End file.
